Sine
by IseultLaBelle
Summary: AU, following Chloe for the seven months after her rape. Major twist at the end! Potentially a two parter.
1. Chapter 1

**This is very, very different, but I've been thinking about doing this for a while and I just couldn't let it go. It's going to be a two parter- I have about a third of part two written, so if you would like the conclusion do let me know! As ever, your feedback is hugely appreciated. And please do tell me if I'm not writing what you'd like to read, this site is very quiet at the moment! I'm always open to suggestions! **

**-IseultLaBelle x **

November.

That's when it starts.

It's as though she spent the first two months after her rape in a state of shock and suspension, Nicky has come to appreciate now, sleepwalking ever closer to the inevitable total breakdown when reality hits her, and yet they don't notice.

Not until Chloe has lost so much weight that it seems as though any more, and she'll fade away completely, until her collarbones jut out awkwardly and she's no longer even pretending she isn't tipping Nicky and Cam's desperate attempts to feed her into the bin, out for next door's cat, flushing them away down the toilet when she runs out the kitchen and slams the bathroom door, until Cam informs her that he could see Chloe's spine with alarming clarity when he walked past her bedroom, door ever-so-slightly open, when she was changing ready for her run- her new hobby that seems to be verging dangerously on the point of obsession, destructive, part of a bigger picture they should have put together far, far sooner.

Not until there's too much bloody tissue to flush away down the loo in one go, too many plaster packages and antiseptic wipes in the bin to pass off as just a papercut.

Why didn't they notice before?

It doesn't come as a total surprise to Ange, when Nicky corners her in her office to tell her, Cam under strict instructions to keep Chloe occupied elsewhere in the hospital for half an hour, under no circumstances to let her anywhere near her mother's YAU.

She's noticed.

Of course she has.

She's Chloe's mother.

She just had no idea how out of control it had all gotten, and she sobs in her office, works her way through the entire box of tissues until Nicky has to discretely steal another from the supply cupboard, spin a confused Sasha a terrible, blatant lie as to Ange's whereabouts she won't even remember by the time she returns to YAU, slips silently back into Chloe's mother's workspace to find Dom perched on the arm of her chair, arms around her, squeezes reassuringly as she cries and cries and cries.

"I've let her down," Ange wails, and suddenly she's but a shell of Nicky's flatmate's formidable mother, Scottish fire and strength and spirit frighteningly absent, turned to dust. "I've let her down! I should have done more, I should never have let her get this bad! I should have…"

"It's okay," says Dom simply, tears in his eyes, too, as he rocks his birth mother back and forth, shoots Nicky a look of fear and helplessness from dark, dilated pupils. "It's going to be okay. We're going to get her through this, Ange. You'll see."

Ange is round at the flat every night, after that, bringing them dinner, whether she's en route to the hospital for her night shift or otherwise.

Hushed whispers, from Chloe's room, sobbing, soothing tones, love.

She's struggling, Ange tells Nicky and Cam one night, grim curled up on the sofa, head in her hands, while Chloe sleeps on obliviously, exhausted, no energy left.

Chloe's struggling with it all, with what Evan did to her, with the aftermath, and this is how she's dealing with it.

They sit there in silence, for a while.

Ange has 'borrowed' Theo's old baby monitor from Fletch's attic, positioned one half carefully on the bottom shelf of Chloe's bedside table, behind her Julie Fowlis records and several pairs of highland dancing shoes already departed from this world in all but mortal body, where she won't find it, clasps the 'parent' half tightly in her hands, volume on max, seemingly listening out for Chloe's soft snuffling in her sleep as though her life depends upon it.

Nicky finds herself wondering if she did the right thing telling her about Chloe's nightmare-induced hysterical crying fits leading to panic attacks, so severe that sometimes they can't calm her down for hours, that just last week, Chloe's breathing was such a mess, she and Cam nearly resorted to calling her an ambulance.

They both agree to lock their razors away in Cam's mum's old jewellery safe, the kitchen knives, as Ange conducts a thorough search of the flat.

(Two dismantled blades in Chloe's room, another two hidden down the back of the sofa.)

They don't know what else to do.

December.

After Chloe collapses in theatre- no question of the cause, low blood sugar, malnourishment, no need for any medical investigation- Ange scoops her up and takes her home with her.

Just until Christmas, she tells Cam and Nicky, when they arrive home two days later to find Ange in and out of the bathroom, Chloe's room, packing her a suitcase, while Chloe trembles on the edge of her bed, arms wrapped around herself, eyes red rimmed, swollen.

Broken.

Ange takes Chloe home for Christmas, and that's where she stays.

For the next two months.

They make a point of texting her every couple of days between them, Nicky and Cam, huddled on the sofa together in front of one of Chloe's Wild at Heart boxsets, because they refused point-blank to watch them with her while she was living here, but all of a sudden, the flat feels rather lifeless and empty without her.

_Chloe_.

Sometimes they'll get back short, rushed replies from Ange, telling them that Chloe's okay, thanks for texting.

Other times, they get nothing at all.

January.

Nicky tries her best, at work.

Because Chloe is back in work, thank god- Nicky is trying to take that as a good sign.

She's on ward duties only, admittedly, floats around Darwin as though the slightest jolt might knock her over, as though she's moving through a dream world, dazed, limp, exhausted before she's even started her shift.

Ange appears up from her new home on AAU at regular intervals, or Dom from Keller, bring food and protein shakes that suspiciously resemble those Nicky remembers from her placement on the Eating Disorder Inpatient Unit, back when she was considering specialising in psychiatry, try to coax Chloe into taking them if they have time, leave them with Nicky and ask her to try if they need to rush back.

Sometimes, she's successful.

But sometimes, Chloe looks at her as though she thinks she's trying to torture her, as though she truly believes despite all of her medical training, all of her intelligence and common sense and reasoning have left her, as though she doesn't understand why they're all doing this to her, why they won't just leave her alone, allow her to go back to starving herself.

(That's the one thing that does seem to have changed for the better, since Chloe moved into Ange's. She still looks… haunted, ill, struggling to cope, but at least she isn't as painfully thin as she was a few weeks ago.)

Ange hands Nicky leaflets on refeeding and eating disorders and PTSD and self-harming, when Chloe shows signs of resistance, tells her quietly, hidden away in the Darwin toilets, that she's so grateful her daughter has such brilliant, supportive friends, that she can't imagine where Chloe would be now without her and Cam.

She means well.

Nicky knows she does.

But Ange's gratitude only makes her feel horribly guilty for not doing more.

Because she should be doing more.

Nicky knows she should, and she's perfectly aware that Cam feels exactly the same.

After all, their many, varied failings when it comes to Chloe seem to be all they talk about, nowadays.

The trouble is, Chloe just doesn't want to let them in.

But still.

Nicky promises herself she'll try harder, from now on.

February.

Chloe moves back into her room at the flat, Ange hovering over her with a fierce, uncompromising protectiveness as she unpacks, fusses over her.

She fixes her hair, places her hands on her shoulders, her elbows, her back, follows her around her room, the flat, as though she's afraid that should she take her eyes off her, even for a moment, she'll fall to pieces again.

So much so that when Cam offers to make Ange and Chloe a cup of tea, beckons Nicky away from Chloe's bedroom door and into the kitchen area, he murmurs to her as they wait for the kettle to boil that he wouldn't be surprised if Ange's plan is to move herself in, too, just until she's satisfied that Chloe is coping without her.

The trouble is, both of them know he's only half joking.

But it's more than that.

It goes deeper.

Because while Ange undeniably has a history of being overly interfering when it comes to her children, it's difficult to not see where she's coming from, over this.

"Do you think she'll ever get over this?" Cam asks quietly, stands in the hallway with Nicky after they've taken in cups of tea to Ange and Chloe, sat on the edge of Chloe's bed in a tangle of limbs, pulled the door just about to but there's still a slight gap, just enough to see in, to hear.

Just enough to witness how bad it all is.

"I look fat, Mum," Chloe sobs painfully, clings onto Ange as though the world is ending, child-like, desperate, distraught. "My stomach looks…"

"You are _not_fat," Ange tells her firmly, presses her daughter tightly against her side. "You do _not_look fat, Chloe. Okay? You look _healthy_. Thank god. This is just your body sorting itself out after… you know. After the last few months. We've been here before, haven't we, sweetheart? Hey? And you told me pretty much exactly the same thing, word for word, when you started getting better, and a couple of months after that you were feeling a lot better about it all, weren't you? Do you remember? Yeah?"

Chloe nods slowly, quietly, accepts the tissue Ange holds out for her.

"See? This is just part of recovery. Alright? You're doing so, so well, Chloe. So well. I'm couldn't be prouder of you. I really, really couldn't. I know it doesn't feel like it right now…"

"No," Chloe admits faintly. "No, it doesn't."

"I know, sweetheart. I know. But you aren't going to feel like this forever, my sweet girl. Okay? It's going to get better. You're going to look back on this in a few weeks and you'll realise you've come such a long way. I promise you will. You've just got to be brave for a little bit longer."

"I just… it's there all the time, Mum," Chloe shudders. "When I close my eyes, when I'm on my own, when I'm not quite focusing on something else hard enough… or sometimes when I am, sometimes when I _need_to focus on something else, and I try so hard and all I can think of is him…"

"I'm so sorry," Ange whispers, voice breaking. "I'm so, so sorry I couldn't protect you. I never wanted you to know how this feels. Never. I'm so, so sorry…"

Nicky sighs heavily, closes her eyes.

"Which one?" she asks.

It's not a question.

March.

"Jesus, what is that in the fridge?" Cam complains as he reaches for the box of eggs (part of his new mission to enforce proper pre-work breakfast, for Chloe's benefit more than anything else), pulls out a large, glass jar decorated with strange letters instead. "It smells like a colostomy bag. One that needed changing about three hours ago."

"Oh, that? It's kapusta," says Chloe happily, wanders back into the kitchen area in her pyjamas and dressing gown, bowl in one hand, fork in the other.

"Ka-what?"

"Kapusta. Fermented cabbage, basically. And carrot. It's an Eastern European thing, I think, I got it from that Polish corner shop near work. Mum used to give me it when I was a kid." Chloe loads her fork with a large helping of what looks to Nicky alarmingly akin to brain matter, swallows, easily the most at-ease she's been with food in months. "I think she said it was immune-boosting, or something."

"Vomit inducing, more like," Cam remarks in mild horror. "I mean, how can you get past the smell of it? Are you literally just eating that for breakfast? On its own?"

"Umm hmm. I'll admit, the smell takes some getting used to at first," Chloe agrees, stabbing another clump of foul-smelling cabbage with her fork. But it's the best. Trust me. It works well with eggs," she offers, noticing the egg box in Cam's hands. "Hard-boiled egg, roll it in salt, serve it with lettuce and kapusta. Heaven."

"That sounds completely revolting," Nicky agrees. "Is that all you're having for breakfast? That's not going to get you through a double shift, is it..."

"It's my second bowl," Chloe argues. "I was up early. Couldn't sleep, you know? And I've made lunch to take with me."

"Fermented cabbage sandwiches?"

"How did you guess?" Chloe frowns, confused.

"Oh my god, seriously? I was joking! Ewww!"

"What's wrong with a kapusta sandwich?" asks Chloe with an air of eerily calm curiosity, opens the fridge, takes out the kapusta jar, adds several more forkfuls to her bowl.

"You're going to make the staffroom smell of colostomy bag, too!" Cam protests. "We get enough of that on the wards. Don't need it in the staffroom as well."

"It's not that bad," Chloe insists. "Try it! You'd get past the smell if you tried it."

"No thanks. You driving into work today?"

Chloe nods. "Not walking in that rain. Do you want a lift? I'm probably going to leave in about half an hour, if that works?"

"Sure, if you don't mind that would be great. But only if you're not going to be eating that stuff in the car."

Chloe rolls her eyes light-heartedly. "Cam?"

"Great, thanks. You do know you can't go in your pyjamas, right? I mean, you could. But can you imagine Ms Naylor?"

"Hey, I can be ready to go in half an hour," Chloe protests. "No point making an effort for a double shift anyway, is there?"

"Fair point. You still up for a lunchbreak run again? You know, to get the endorphins going, give us an energy boost to get through another ten hours?"

"Do you mind if I don't today?" Chloe finally places her empty kapusta bowl in the dishwasher, wraps her arms around herself, fidgets. "I feel… I don't know. Weird."

"Weird?" Cam asks, expression suddenly concerned, glances across to meet Nicky's gaze and back again. "Weird how?"

"Like…" Chloe trails off, shrugs, stares at the floor determinedly, awkward, shutting down. "I don't know… bloated…. Maybe. It's weird. Like my organs are being crushed, or something."

"And are you still managing to eat…"

"I don't want to talk about food," Chloe insists firmly, turns, makes a beeline for her bedroom door before Nicky and Cam can push the subject any further. "Ready to leave in half an hour, yeah?"

"She's not over all this, is she?" Nicky sighs quietly, as Chloe's bedroom door slams shut. "She's not over it at all."

"No," Cam agrees. "No, she isn't. Well, I think the whole food situation genuinely has gotten a lot better. But still. I think she's just got better at pretending."

April.

It starts after work.

That's the strangest thing about it.

All day at work, Chloe seems fine- better than fine, even, closer to her usual self than Nicky remembers seeing her in months.

It's almost as though none of it ever happened, not Evan, not her mum's revelation over Dom's adoption, none of it.

She seems… happy.

Healthy.

She seems as though finally, seven months on, she might just be able to put everything that happened with Evan behind her.

Then they finish work, come home, and it all goes to shit.

Dom comes back to the flat with them, after work.

It's been too long since he's spent some quality time with his sister, he claims, but they gather together all four of them, that evening. Dom and Chloe drop by Yo Sushi on the way back from the hospital, bring with them teriyaki burgers and more raw fish than anyone could possibility want, and the four of them curl up together on the sofas in front of rubbish TV, Chloe adding copious amounts of kapusta to her sushi and only causing it to smell even worse than it already does.

And for the first couple of hours, everything is fine.

Then Chloe starts to fidget, on-edge, face twists in discomfort as she presses her hand over her mouth.

They try to ignore it, at first.

All of them have learnt over the last seven months that treating her like she's fragile, jumping on her at the slightest sign of a need to be anxious only ends badly.

But half an hour later, Chloe is so obviously in pain that it's difficult to look past it any longer.

"You alright?" Dom asks carefully, adjusts his arm around his sister's shoulders. "Chlo?"

"I'm fine," Chloe insists. "I'm fine, I just… just hurts."

"What hurts?" Dom presses, exchanges worried glances with Nicky and Cam. "Your… Oh, okay," he realises as Chloe clasps her hands over her stomach, moans softly, closes her eyes. "Okay. Have you had any other problems, since…"?

"Since Mum dragged me into the ED kicking and screaming and they told me I had pelvic inflammatory disease from Evan's STIs back in October?" Chloe snaps, irritant. "No, not since then… sorry," she whispers, face relaxes, seems to calm down a little again. "Sorry, I just…"

"It's alright. It's alright, you look like you're in pain," Dom tries sympathetically. "My fault, I should have been less… you know. Do you want some painkillers?"

Chloe nods, defeated, eyes still closed.

"Okay. Okay, we can do that, can't we?" Dom stares at Nicky pointedly.

"Course we can. Do you want your wheat bag thing as well?" Nicky calls, opening the kitchen cupboards in search for the ibuprofen. "Chloe?"

But all Chloe does is screw up her face in agony, fists clench, bites her lip.

"Maybe stick it in the microwave," Dom suggests. "Then she has the option. Chloe? Chloe, talk to me? How long have you been feeling like…"

"About an hour? I don't know, I… it wasn't this bad," Chloe forces out, writhes, grabs onto Dom's hand. "It wasn't… when it started it just felt like cramps, or something…"

"Okay. And was that how it was when you had the…"

Chloe nods weakly.

Cam pales. "Do you think we need to get her into…"

"No!" Chloe snaps. "I'm not going to the ED."

"Chloe…"

"I'm not going!" Chloe protests. "Not… not right now, anyway. If… if it gets worse…"

"Okay," says Dom calmly. "Okay, so we'll give it an hour. Yeah? And if it's worse in an hour, I'm taking you into the ED. Or AAU, if you'd rather, I'm sure we can pull some strings, get Ange to have a look at you. Would that be better than a stranger?"

Chloe nods. "I just… if it's that…"

"I know. I know, I get it. I wouldn't be rushing into that kind of examination either, if it's any consolation. But we're giving it an hour," Dom warns worriedly. "If it's worse in an hour, or even if it's still like this, I'm taking you into the ED. I mean it, Chloe."

"Here," Nicky tells Chloe gently, crouches beside her, painkillers in one hand, glass of water in the other. "Take those. And I'll go and get your heat pack thing out the microwave, okay? You'll feel better."

But it doesn't get better.

Half an hour later and Dom can't remember ever having been more worried about her- and he's worried about his little sister a _lot_, over the past few months.

She's curled up against his side on the sofa, writhes in pain, alternates between peaceful moments in which she simply lies there, presses her hands over her stomach and almost seems to be asleep, and, sometimes within seconds, crushes Dom's hand in hers and moans in agony, arches her back, trembles, cold sweat, Nicky and Cam looking on worriedly.

It's when she starts sobbing that Dom can't take anymore.

"Come on, Chlo. This is ridiculous," he tells her gently, strokes her hair. "You look like you're in absolute agony, I can't just leave you like this. Why don't we…"

All of a sudden, Chloe bolts, springs off the sofa as though she's been scalded, races across the flat to lock herself in the bathroom.

"Chloe!" Nicky calls, rushing after her. "Chloe, are you alright? Can I get you anything…?"

"Just… need to go!" Chloe shouts back, but there's a strange edge to her voice Dom can't place.

They sit in silence, for a while, waiting for Chloe to return.

Dom fidgets, mind racing, closes his eyes, breathes.

She's his little sister.

She's his little sister, and she's in pain, and he doesn't know what to do.

His hand roams across the sofa to the now-empty space beside him, comes into contact with damp fabric, warm.

"She's wet herself," he murmurs quietly, as Nicky crosses back over to join them. "God only knows how much pain she must be in…"

"We need to get her into the ED," Nicky agrees. "It goes like this with pelvic inflammatory disease, doesn't it? The flare-ups can keep coming back. It must be bringing it all back for her, you know, given… Evan. No wonder she doesn't want to get checked out."

"I think she found it quite traumatic last time," Dom admits quietly. "From what Ange said. She's not going to take another ED visit without a fight."

"Maybe it's worth giving Ange a call," Cam suggests. "She's on the nightshift tonight, isn't she?"

Cam nods. "She's been in there a while now, hasn't she?" he worries. "Perhaps one of us should…"

As if on cue, the bathroom door opens.

Chloe limps out, walking strangely, legs spread, pained.

"Dom," she whispers. "Dom, can you call Mum?"

"Of course." Dom pulls his phone from his pocket, holds out his free arm as his sister staggers over towards him, changes his mind as he remembers the damp stain on the sofa, jumps up to meet her instead. "Of course I will. Why don't we…"

But Chloe leans against him heavily, rests her head against his chest, moans.

"Okay," Dom tells her, trying his hardest not to panic. "Okay. Is this more comfortable? Yeah? I've got you. I'm just going to call Ange…"

"I think I…" Chloe gestures to her maxi skirt, ashamed.

"It's okay. It's okay, you look like you're in so much pain," he soothes. "It's okay. I'm calling Ange, alright? I'm calling her."

But his call just goes straight to voicemail.

He tries again and again, rubs Chloe's back in a desperate attempt to comfort her as Ange fails to answer, as Nicky slips into Chloe's room and offers her a clean change of clothes she refuses, watches his sister's face for signs of a rapid downward spiral as she clings onto him, tries the number for AAU instead.

"I'm just going to feel your pulse, Chloe," Nicky tries, reaches for Chloe's wrist. "Just to be sure…"

"I'm fine," Chloe protests anxiously, bats her off, pants. "You don't understand…"

"What don't we understand, Chloe?" Cam asks now. "Chloe? What can we do, what…"

"I just need Mum," Chloe insists. "I need Mum, I need…"

"Can you take it?" Dom pleads, hands his phone to Nicky as the call finally connects. "It's alright, Chlo. It's alright, we'll get Ange, if you'd feel more comfortable telling…"

"Hi Donna," says Nicky frantically into the phone. "Is Ange there? She's in theatre? It's… oh, okay. Right… yeah, I really need you to get her out of there, if you can, I don't care if she's wrapping up in the next half hour, it's…"

"No," Chloe protests. "No, no, no…"

"Okay. Okay… can you just… can you get her to give me a call back once she's done? Amazing, thank you."

Nicky ends the call, exchanges frightened glances with Dom and Cam. "Chloe? Chloe, you're starting to scare us, now. We really need you to try to tell us what's wrong, is it still your stomach? Or is it down there, is it more like the PID when…"

"Sheena," Chloe whispers faintly, pale, sweating, and yet horribly, horribly cold. "If you can't get hold of Mum… call Sheena. There's a card… on my pin board…"

Nicky doesn't hesitate.

Sheena, Chloe's sexual offense liaison officer, arrives on the doorstep twenty minutes later.

Cam lets her in.

Dom clings onto Chloe as though the world is ending, shot down a thousand times over in his suggestions to just call for an ambulance and get her into the ED, rubs her back, tries to calm her down but she's having none of it, sobbing and moaning and writhing like nothing he's ever seen before, eyes haunted, wide, afraid, for all her exhaustion.

Ange is never going to forgive him, he curses himself.

Maybe he should have just bundled her into his car, driven her down to the ED himself kicking and screaming.

What if it's bad, really bad, what if it's all too late by the time they finally get Chloe seen to and Ange never forgives him…

Sheena approaches carefully, gently, crouches down on the floor beside them.

"Chloe?" she asks softly. "Chloe, it's me. It's Sheena. Your friend Nicky said you were asking for me, she said you looked like you were in pain…"

Chloe writhes, squeezes Dom's hand for several seconds longer, so tightly that for a moment, it feels as though she might crush it.

And then finally, shamefully, she relaxes, stares into Sheena's eyes pleadingly.

"I didn't know," Chloe sobs. "I didn't know, I swear I didn't know…"

Sheena seems to understand.

Somehow, inexplicably so, Sheena seems to understand what Dom, Nicky and Cam, the medics in the room, have somehow missed, just from those simple words, Chloe's demeanour, pained, frightened expression in her eyes.

"Oh, Chloe," she sighs sympathetically, soothing, taking control. "Okay. Okay, sweetheart. It's alright. Can I touch you?"

Chloe nods, closes her eyes, collapses back into Dom's chest.

"Okay. Everything's going to be alright now," Sheena promises, shuffles in closer, takes hold of Chloe's hands gently. "I've got you. You're alright. You're doing so, so well, Chloe, you just need to be brave for a little while longer."

"Do you know what's wrong with her?" Dom forces out, unable to hold himself together any longer. "We can't… Chloe didn't seem to know what was wrong, we were thinking… she had herpes, and then the pelvic inflammatory disease, last September, after everything with… we thought… perhaps…"

But Sheena ignores him.

"This happened to your mum, too, didn't it?" Sheena asks Chloe now, voice calm, calmer than Dom can even recall how to be at this point. "I remember you telling me."

Chloe nods, shudders.

"Okay. It's okay. I'm here. We're all here, Chloe, we're going to get you through this together. And when abouts did your mum…"

"Round about now, I think," Chloe forces out between her sobs. "Only she managed to hold off on this… this part… a while longer. After she realised. She knew, when this… this happened. But I didn't… I promise I didn't know… I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. Nothing. And it's definitely…"

"_Definitely_. From _that_."

"Okay. And do you know how far you've progressed, or do we need to…"

"Eight centimetres," Chloe whispers. "I think. I checked in the bathroom… about… I don't know… right before Nicky called you. Whenever that was. But it's… it's different doing it to yourself, I couldn't see, I don't know if I… and it's all happened so quickly, I think it could…"

"Doing what to yourself?" Cam interrupts urgently. "Chloe?"

Chloe just shakes her head.

"Not just now," Sheena shuts him down. "Not helpful. Okay. Can you go and get us some towels, please, one of you? I don't care who. Dom, can you help me get Chloe down to my car. We don't have time to wait for Ange, we need to get her to the hospital and then they can take it from…"

"I think…" Chloe confesses faintly, free hand roaming between her legs awkwardly, wild. "I think I can feel the head."

"Fuck!" exclaims Nicky loudly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

Dom's eyes widen. "What head?"

"Oh my god, and I thought you lot were supposed to be doctors," moans Chloe, clenching Dom's hand with strength he hadn't known she had. "I managed to work it out, for god's sake. Albeit half an hour ago…"

"Is she…"

"Yes," says Sheena unapologetically. "Yes, she's in labour, and I'm going to need one of you to check, but I'm pretty sure she's going to want to push in the next few minutes. That's why I really need you to go and get me some towels, asap."

"But she's…" Cam stands motionless in the hallway, shaking, panicked. "She can't be, she…"

"Yes, it's Evan's!" Chloe snaps, voice laced with anxiety and pain and despair and fear all at once. "It has to be Evan's, there hasn't been… anyone… since…"

And then she's writhing in pain again, cries out, panicked, almost, as though her own agony is sending her into an anxiety attack, lost control of the situation completely and doesn't know how to claw it back, how to cope in the meantime.

Contractions.

That's what they are; her mysterious symptoms that have been causing her so much pain over the last hour or so.

Dom curses himself for not seeing it before.

Contractions.

Contractions mean… shit, _shit_…

"But that means you're… what, seven, eight months?" Nicky stammers, apparently rendered just as paralysed by it all as Cameron and Dom, doesn't move, doesn't even seem to have taken in Sheena's instruction. "You can't be… you don't look…"

"You think I don't know the last time I had sex, Nicky?" Chloe forces out between her moans of pain. "Believe me… I'd remember if… the last time… wasn't that. Anything would be better than… _anything_… do you think I'd want to… remember that as… the last time… if it wasn't the…"

"Right, Cam, towels! Now!" Sheena shouts to get their attention, uncannily Jac-esque all of a sudden. "Nicky, come here, I need you to check how dilated she is. And Dom- you're the brother, aren't you? Yes? Talk to her, then. She needs you to reassure her, and no offence, but you're not doing a great job of that just now. Sorry, but given the circumstances, I'm going to tell you like it is. We don't have time for pleasantries, I just need you to focus on Chloe now. Has anyone called an ambulance?"

"Chloe…" Nicky stammers shakily, kneeling down on the floor beside them, Dom and Chloe huddled together, Chloe collapses weakly against Dom's chest, Sheena gently squeezing her hand in comfort. "Chloe didn't want…"

"I'm sorry," Chloe whispers, as finally this latest contraction seems to subside, delirious, almost, well and truly out of it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Oh for god's sake, and you let her decide? Chloe, I'm not blaming you, sweetheart," Sheena promises, voice softening. "None of this is your fault. You're in shock, lovely, this is all traumatic enough for women who've been through what you have when they've had time to mentally prepare and they're okay with it all. This is normal. You've got nothing to apologise for, have you? You didn't know. You didn't know, it happens. More often than you might think. This isn't your fault…"

"It is, though," Chloe stammers, eyes brimming with tears. "I should have… Mum had… both times… that's why it took her so long to realise…"

"She had what?" Dom asks carefully, tries to keep the concern out of his voice and yet he's panicking even more now, panicking that she's about to tell him there's a family history of placenta previa or something else complicated and nightmare-inducing they won't be able to deal with in a homebirth setting, that his little sister is going to bleed out, that she's going to… god, he doesn't want to think about it. "Chloe?"

"Tilted uterus," Chloe forces out through her tears, no longer even pretending to hold it all together. "Everything goes inwards, not outwards, until the last few weeks. I didn't know, I swear I didn't know…"

"You haven't noticed you've not been needing your massive tampon supply in the bathroom cupboard?" Nicky questions, almost in horrified disbelief. "Because even I noticed that, I just put it down to stress, and… you know… that you haven't been eating…"

"And you don't think that's exactly what I put it down to, Nicky?" Chloe snaps, face contorting in pain again. "Okay, so maybe there was some denial too, but you'd be in denial if you had no symptoms and the last time you had sex was when your husband raped…. fuck, it hurts…"

"Alright. Alright, Chloe, it's alright now. It's alright. Just breathe through it. That's it. I need you to stay as calm as you can and breathe through it, this is all going to be over much sooner if you just try to relax. Don't fight it. Cam, call an ambulance while you're getting the towels," Sheena commands. "Now. Tell them we've got a cryptic pregnancy, labour's well established, thirty-three weeks gestation. Lay it on thick… you know what's gone on, don't you, you know all the history? Say whatever you have to say to get an ambulance here ASAP, I don't care. Nicky's going to confirm how dilated Chloe is, we'll need to tell them that…"

"I do know how to do my job…"

"I don't care!" Sheena snaps at Cam, eyes never leaving Chloe. "No offence, but you've done a pretty crap job of it so far. I'm with Chloe on this one, I'm afraid, I'm surprised at least one of you hadn't worked it out by now. A cryptic pregnancy's one thing, I'll let you off the hook on that one. But you're all medics, for god's sake, and it didn't occur to you she's got all the symptoms of advanced labour? So I'll take the lead on this, 999 call and towels, please!" she shouts again, Cam suddenly frozen behind them, halfway to the airing cupboard and rooted to the spot in shock. "Sometime this year would be preferable, Cam! Chloe, I'm going to have to take your underwear off, okay? I'm sorry. I know, I know you're not going to like it. But you're safe. Alright? You're fine. I know this is a lot to get your head around, darling, I know. I know you're scared. And that's perfectly understandable. But just focus on this part for now, okay? We can work all the rest out later. Right, relax. Relax, sweetheart, come on. Hold onto your brother. It's alright. Breathe. Breathe, make the most of this time now. I need you to breathe between contractions, Chloe, nice and calm." Sheena shuffles around on the floor, gently guides Chloe to raise her legs, feet down, knees bent. "Okay?"

"I can't," Chloe sobs. "I can't do it, I can't…"

"Yes, you can," Sheena tells her firmly. "You can do this. I know you can Chloe, you're going to be absolutely fine. It'll be over soon. Alright? We just need to get you through this part, and then we can…"

"I don't want it!" Chloe protests, trembles violently in Dom's arms, pale, eyes wide with anxiety. "I don't want a baby, I don't want…"

"I know, and I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sheena murmurs soothingly, voice soft with sympathy. "I'm so, so sorry you're having to go through this. I can't even imagine how it must feel. But it's too late now. Alright? You're going to have to deliver this baby now, you're going to have to go through this part, and I wish you didn't. But we can work it all out afterwards, okay? I promise. No one's going to make you do anything you don't want to, I'll make sure of that. But we need to get this part over with. I need you to hold your legs like this for me, can you do that? Good girl. Nicky, I need you now!" she calls urgently. "Right, Chloe, look at me, sweetheart. Look at me. Breathe. I'm going to have to take your underwear off…"

"No," Chloe protests, frantic, squirms, doesn't even seem to register Dom's rubbing gentle circles on her back, trying to soothe her. "No, no, no, no, no…."

"She's in shock," Dom blurts out, hugs his sister protectively as Nicky drops to the floor beside them, knows she isn't going to hurt Chloe intentionally but at the same time, he's all-too aware that any attempt at examination of the kind Sheena is suggesting is going to work Chloe into a total panic- and he hasn't witnessed one of Chloe's panic attacks admittedly, but he's heard enough from Ange to know that they're on dangerous ground. "She's in shock, she can't cope with this, it's too much for her…"

"I'm well aware of that, but what exactly do you suggest we do instead?" Sheena retorts. "She's in labour, Dom, and we'll wait until Nicky can tell us how advanced, but I wouldn't be surprised if she's almost there, judging by the looks of things. She's going to have to give birth to this baby whether she likes it or not, and it's shit, and I'm sorry. But as I'm sure you know better than I do, there's absolutely nothing we can do about that. What we can do is support her through this part, and make sure she knows whatever decision she makes, we're going to be here for her. Aren't we?"

"Of course we are," Dom agrees. "You're okay, Chlo. You're okay."

"It hurts," Chloe whispers. "It hurts, it's…"

"I know. I know, but it's going to be over soon," he promises. "Really soon. You'll see. And then… we can do whatever you want, about _this_," he tells her firmly. "You tell us what you want to happen next, and we'll do it…"

"I don't want it!" Chloe insists, apparently traumatised at the mere thought. "I don't want it, I don't want to see it, I don't want to… I don't want anything to do with it, I just want you to get it away from me as soon as it's…"

"Okay. Okay, so that's what we'll do." Dom exchanges worried glances with Sheena and Nicky now, no idea if it's quite that simple in reality, but what else can they tell her? "That's fine, Chloe. That's fine. We can do that. But we need you to give birth first, so it might be an idea to let Nicky…"

"I want Mum," Chloe pleads. "I want my mum, I don't want to do it without my mum…"

"Right, someone call the hospital, tell them we need Ange back here now," Sheena instructs. "But for goodness sake don't tell her why, we don't want another emergency on our hands. Just make sure she leaves now. We need her here now. Cam!" she shouts. "Cam, any joy on the ambulance front?"

"On its way." Cam reappears from the hallway, phone balanced on top of a pile of towels. "Only they're stretched tonight…"

"And presumably you told them just how…"

"Of course I did!" Cam bites his lip. "Chloe's not considered priority since there are medics present, they're going to try and get someone here in the next…"

"For god's sake." Sheena closes her eyes. "And they know it's premature labour, they know…"

He hadn't even considered the baby, Dom realises only now, only as Sheena spells it out to them.

God, does that make him an awful person?

But Chloe doesn't want the baby.

Chloe doesn't want the baby, and so Sheena is attempting to make her handling of her labour as absolutely-not-about-the-baby as she can, kept it about Chloe, somehow, focus on Chloe, dealing with the contractions and starting to prepare for the inevitable with as little emphasis on the baby part of it all as possible.

That's why it all feels so strange.

Maternity isn't exactly Dom's area of expertise, but he's never been involved in a birth with so little focus on the baby, so little mention of it, knows that this approach isn't exactly normal.

Sheena's taken charge; despite being the only non-medic, the only one who doesn't know what she's doing, not really, guided them, and yes, it's because she's the only one to have apparently avoided a state of complete and utter shock, but there's surely more to her stubborn management of the situation, her focus on Chloe and Chloe only, her… clinical approach, almost, matter of fact, the way she talks Chloe through the labour pains as though it's an illness that needs to be dealt with, not a natural process that's going to leave her with a baby at the end of it.

And it's only now, thinking about it, properly thinking about it, hugging his sister with as much reassurance as he can, that Dom realises Sheena much be taking the approach she is because she's realised there's no way in hell they're going to drag Chloe though a natural birth if they keep making it about a baby she's made perfectly clear she doesn't want, a baby she didn't even know existed half an hour ago.

But still.

He hasn't even considered the baby, and it's his niece or nephew, for god's sake.

It's Evan's…

Evan's…

Fuck, this is all such a mess.

How are they going to handle things when the baby comes, if it needs intervention to get it breathing? How are they going to keep Chloe all the while she has to be around Evan's baby, if this is how she feels about it and it isn't even out of her yet… shit…

Sheena might be the only non-medic, but she also seems to be the only one of them who's remaining calm, the only one of them able to take control, handle it all the way Chloe needs it handled.

God, Sheena might be the only one who can get Chloe out the other side of this in one piece.

"I told them it's premature labour," Cam confirms, trembles, eyes wide in panic. "I told them… you know. The situation. That… you know. That given the circumstances…"

"That I can't cope with this because it's Evan's and this feels like… like _that _all over again, you can say it, Cam!" Chloe moans in agony, closes her eyes, shudders. "I can't do this. I can't do this, I can't, I don't _want _to do this…"

"We know, Chlo," Dom murmurs. "We know. But we're going to support you, and we're going to do everything we can to make this easier for you, alright? And no one's… no one's going to make you do anything you don't want once this part's over. Okay?"

"I can't face it, Dom," Chloe pleads with him, breathes heavily, pants. "I can't… I don't want to see it, I don't want to hold it, I don't want to know anything about it, I just want it gone…"

"Then that's what we'll do, Chloe," Sheena assures her. "That's what we'll do, that's fine. We're going to do this how you want. I promise. However you want."

"I just want my mum…"

"I know, sweetheart. Cam, go and call her now," Sheena instructs firmly. "Or call the hospital, whoever you can get through to, impress upon them that Ange needs to get here now. Whatever she's in the middle of, I don't care. It's an emergency. Chloe needs her _now_."

Cam pales, nods, disappears off into the hallway again.

"Chloe," Sheena tries softly. "Chloe, we're going to get your mum here, okay? I promise. I know you don't want to do this without your mum, we're going to get her here as soon as we can. But in the meantime, we need to know how dilated you are. We need to know what we're dealing with, Chloe, just so we can look after you properly, so we can get this all over with. Will you let Nicky examine you?"

Chloe closes her eyes, shutting them all out. "I can't…"

"I'm not going to hurt you, Chloe," Nicky promises. "We can take it as slowly as you need, alright? I promise. We just need to work out how advanced you are, then we can…"

"I don't want to have to see it," Chloe shudders. "I don't want to have anything to do with it, I just want it out of me, I can't… it's part of _him_and it makes me feel sick…"

"I know," Nicky soothes. "I know. And I promise we're going to get this over with as soon as we can. But that's why I really need you to let me examine you. Yeah? Just so I can see how things are progressing. That's all. I'm not going to hurt you. We can take it slowly, if you need me to stop I promise I will…"

Chloe blinks, shudders, takes a deep breath.

"Just do it," she blurts out. "Just do it, just get it over with before I change my mind…"

"Okay. Okay, if you're sure." Nicky glances between Dom and Sheena anxiously, alarmed, out of her depth. "Okay. I'm not going to hurt you," she promises. "I'm just going to check how dilated you are, but I'm going to have to take your…"

"I know what you're going to have to do, Nicky, and I'd much prefer if it you just get on with it!" Chloe moans, teeth gritted, squeezes down on Dom's hand with such force that under any other circumstances, he would have complained she was surely going to break half the bones in his fingers. "I just want it to be over, I just want it to all be over and then I can give it to someone who actually wants it and everything can get back to normal…"

"Alright," says Nicky softly. "Alright."

"We've got you," Sheena reminds Chloe gently, as Nicky lifts her skirt. "We've got you. You've got witnesses, okay?" she points out lightly, hands on Chloe's shoulders, tries to comfort her. "You're fine. You're safe, you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. Nobody's going to do anything you aren't comfortable with, I promise. Just breathe. It'll be over soon. No, no, don't look at Nicky. Don't try and look, Chloe, that's just going to freak you out, isn't it?"

"Think about something else," Dom tries. Rationally, he knows Nicky won't hurt her- of course he does- but all the same, he clings to his little sister protectively, hugs her, shoots Nicky his best 'hurt her and I'll hurt you' death glare. "Think about… I don't know. What do you want to do, when this is over?" he asks, breathes a sigh of relief as Sheena nods at him reassuringly. "We can do whatever you want…"

"I don't know," Chloe sobs. "I don't know, I feel like this is never going to end..."

"I know. I know, sweetheart, but it will. It's going to be over soon, you'll see. What do you reckon, Chloe?" Sheena squeezes her shoulders lightly, tries to distract her from Nicky lifting her legs apart, first aid kit on the floor beside her. "Sushi? I'm sure Dom will go and get you take-away from Yo Sushi, and I'll even tell you my Disney Plus password if you ask nicely. Sushi, Merida or whatever that one with the Scottish princess you like is, and I think the greyhound rescue place up by the common is having an open day on Sunday. Puppy cuddles?"

In just those two sentences, Chloe's rape counsellor implies such a perfect understanding of his sister and everything that makes her happy that Dom has to wonder just how much time the two of them have spent together over the last seven months.

"Sounds perfect. Why can't I just have a puppy instead?" Chloe complains, breathes heavily through her latest contraction. "Can't I just trade it in for a rescue puppy instead? Baby animals are _so_much better than baby humans. I don't want a baby human full stop, let alone… his… I don't want his baby, I don't want it anywhere near me…"

"Then you don't have to," Sheena promises. "I'm not sure we can arrange a direct swap, but we can certainly sort it all out for you. Okay? Well, you might have to convince the greyhound shelter you're suitable to rehome a puppy by yourself, but I can certainly handle everything else, sweetheart. No one's going to make you keep it if you don't want to, Chloe. No one. There's nothing wrong with preferring puppies."

"At least puppies are cute and fluffy."

"There you go. Greyhound rescue on Sunday it is, then."

Chloe nods faintly, free hand claws at her stomach, practically flat, only the slightest traces of a curve that Dom would have put down to her food issues from December and weight redistribution and all the crap that comes with eating disorders until just half an hour ago.

"I don't understand," she protests, despairing. "I don't understand, I don't understand…"

"I've spoken to AAU." Cam reappears in the living room, pale, worried. "Ange has just left, they got her out of theatre. So she'll be what, ten minutes max?"

"Good," says Nicky quietly, fights to keep her voice calm, but Cam doesn't miss the panic she's desperately trying to hide. "Good, we're going to need her. Chloe?" she begins carefully. "Chloe, I'm done, alright? You're doing so well. You're doing so, so well, you're being so brave. But you're going to need to be even more brave for me in a minute, okay? Baby's breech," she reports, fear in her eyes as she meets Dom's gaze now. "You're fully dilated, but the baby's breech."

Chloe freezes.

"No," she forces out, shaking violently. "No, no I… in the bathroom, I could feel the head, I could feel… it was solid, it was…"

"You could probably feel the feet," Nicky tells her apologetically. "I know it's not what you want to hear, Chloe, and I'm sorry. But it's definitely the feet. I can _see _the feet."

"I didn't…" Chloe is crying properly now, gasping for breath, eyes wide, distraught. "I… I just… I felt _something_, and it was… it felt like a… it felt like when I've delivered at work, I didn't want to touch it properly, it… it freaked me out… it was awful, I didn't realise until…"

"No, that's understandable," Nicky agrees. "But it's definitely breech, Chloe. I can see the feet. And I…" She looks between Cam and Dom now, eyes pleading for backup. "I think you're going to want to push any minute now, your contractions have been slowing. I don't know if we're going to have time to wait for the ambulance, we're certainly not going to be able to avoid virginal delivery, are we? And it's… it's bigger than the preemies I did on my obstetrics rotation," she admits apologetically. "Judging by the feet, anyway, I… I don't think it's a small baby. Quite the opposite. I think we might be able to hold off until Ange gets here, but we're going to have to go ahead naturally, we won't have time to wait for any…"

"She can't," Dom objects, knows it's completely pointless, but somehow the words are tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "She can't, she's already exhausted, she's upset, she's in shock… she's_tiny_, have you seen her? I'd be worried about her tearing if it was a large baby head first, but if it's breech… She can't…"

"Fuck!" Chloe sobs, desperate. "Fuck…"

**I'm so sorry this has taken so long! I've been a bit all over the place, but I promise I am getting back into writing now! By popular request this story is now going to have five chapters- thank you so much to WaterlooRoadSianAndMadi, KieraJRickford, Holbyfan199693, Guest, Meg and Godxrd for your reviews. I'm so glad you all enjoyed part one, feedback on part two would be much appreciated! **

**-IesultLaBelle x **

**PS- any guesses on whether the baby is a boy or a girl? (I know some of you already know!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**This one's for Syd, for waiting so patiently while I tried to get back into the right headspace to write this story. **

**I really hope this is okay- I feel like this isn't up to the same standard as parts I and II and it's been forever, so please do let me know if you're still here and you want part IV! **

**-IseultLaBelle x **

**Part III**

Those next ten minutes pass as slowly as though they were a thousand years.

Sheena sends Cam to call for an ambulance again, under strict instructions to tell to them over and over that it's an undetected pregnancy presenting breech, advanced labour, that it's a pregnancy resulting from rape and Chloe isn't coping, because all of them seem to be in such a state of shock over it all that all their years of medical training have left them and they can't think straight, need prompting, instructing, hand holding.

Chloe…

Thank god for Sheena.

Thank god for Sheena because his little sister needs him, needs all of them, but Dom truly doesn't know how they would have held it together without her.

Cam calls for an ambulance again while Dom sits with his back pressed up against the wall, his little sister leaning in turn against his chest, clutches his hand so tightly that he's half convinced she'll have fractured half the bones by the time this is all over.

He hugs the little sister he's secretly wanted all his life as hard as he dares given the circumstances, terrified of hurting her, simply unable to wrap his head around how this can be happening when his forearm rests against the slight, barely-detectable curve of her stomach as he holds her, how…

He can't even think about it.

She can't do this.

She's not strong enough to do this.

Not now.

Not Chloe.

Not his fragile baby sister who begs for their mother with each new wave of contractions, protests over and over in the time between that she doesn't want to do this, that it's too much, that she _can't _do this, can't take it anymore.

Then the flashbacks start.

It comes on so quickly.

One moment she's struggling, but understandably so, given the circumstances, just struggling to cope with the pain and everything she's come to realise it symbolises.

One moment her distress seems to be rooted entirely in the present, in the agony of trying to birth a baby she wants nothing to do with, a baby conceived by her rapist, a baby she hadn't even known existed an hour ago- Dom reminds himself, that must be the absolute definition of body horror.

One moment she's alright, under the circumstances, just about coping, and the next she's frantic, panicked, pupils dilate and her expression twists to one of utter terror, lower lip trembles, starts to struggle in Dom's arms and then she freezes, rabbit-in-the-headlights, slips into the past so rapidly that there's nothing they can do to stop it.

"No!" Chloe protests weakly, anguished. "No, no, no, no, please! Get off me! Please… I can't… please…"

"Chlo?" Nicky says softly, exchanges worried glances with Dom. "Chlo, you're okay. You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you, I just need to make sure you're not…"

"I can't!" Chloe's voice trembles in fear now, and all of a sudden, she's so horribly still, frozen, as though survival instinct is screaming at her to freeze, motionless, that perhaps is she stays as still as she possibly can then whatever threat she seems to believe is coming might hurt a little less, and it breaks Dom's heart. "I can't, Evan, I can't… please… please don't make me, Evan…"

"He's not here, Chloe," Dom tries desperately to get through to her, torn, can't decide whether the physical contact they've settled into throughout the worst of her contractions is going to ground her or make it all a thousand times worse, whether she's so disorientated by her distress that she thinks he's Evan, that he's going to hurt her, that she's about to relive that nightmare all over again. "You're safe. We're not going to hurt you, Chloe, that's all over, I promise…"

"I can't!" Chloe sobs. She clings to his hand again all of a sudden, shaking violently, traumatised. "I can't, I can't, it's too…"

"Chloe? Chloe, listen," Sheena commands, calm as anything- and Dom can't help but wonder if she's apparently unfazed by it all because this is horrifyingly common, or whether it's just that years of working with rape victims in general has left her unshakable, with an uncanny ability to somehow hold herself together in even the direst of situations. "Listen to me, Chloe. You're safe. I promise. I know this is awful," she sighs sympathetically. "It's very common for women to struggle with labour when they've been through what you have, and that's when they have the chance to mentally prepare themselves. But you're safe," she promises. "We aren't going to hurt you, Chloe. I promise we aren't. You're safe. We aren't going to hurt you, Nicky's just going to do whatever she needs to medically to make sure we get you through this safely. Alright? We're all here, darling. If there's anything else we can do to make you feel more comfortable, all you have to do is say, and we'll…"

"I just want it to be over!" Chloe forces out between sobs, desperate, frantic. 'I just want it to be over, I just want…"

"Soon, Chlo," Nicky tells her gently. "Really, really soon. It's okay, you're…"

"Is Mum coming?" Frightened eyes plead with them now, pupils dilated like she's high- and she probably is, Dom realises with a sinking feeling, high on pure fear and horror and the shock… god…

A part of Dom wonders if she'll even remember most of this tomorrow- if perhaps it might be kinder if she didn't, all things considered.

"She'll be here soon, Chloe." Sheena rubs gentle circles on the back of Chloe's hand, standing in for Ange as best she can. "It won't be long now."

"She's… going to… be… so…" Chloe's words come between sharp, frantic gasps, panicky, despairing.

"She's not going to be angry with you, darling. How could she be angry with you?" Sheena questions. "Hey? Exactly the same thing happened to her, didn't it, she won't be…"

"But she… she realised…"

"Only just in time, though. This could easily have happened to your mum, too, she's not going to be angry with you, Chloe. _No one's_going to be angry with you, this happens. It's not your fault. It's entirely understandable, not noticing the signs when you've been through everything you have in the last few months. You're still recovering from that, aren't you? Chloe? It's okay," Sheena promises. "It's okay, Chloe. No one's going to be angry, you're not in any trouble. We all just want to help you get through this."

"But… but she'll… she'll…" Chloe shakes her head, trails off, horribly unclear as to whether she's stopped because she's in so much pain from the next contradiction that hits her she can't think straight, or whether it's simply all too much for her to even voice out loud.

"Alright. Alright, just breathe through it, Chloe," Sheena murmurs. "That's it. Just breathe, Chloe, just keep taking nice deep breaths. It'll be over soon. Relax, darling, this will be much, much easier if you can try to relax. You're okay. We've got you, you're okay. Just breathe."

Chloe moans, twists, eyes closed as though she's trying to shut it all out, as though it's taking everything she has left just to survive this latest contraction- and they've still got to somehow drag her kicking and screaming through delivering this baby, Dom reminds himself, shakily.

How is she ever going to be able to deliver this baby?

"She'll hate me," Chloe whispers through her tears, when at last it's over. "She'll hate me for not wanting it…"

"Chloe…"

"She will!" Chloe sobs. "She kept me and I can't… I can't… I don't want…"

"And that's absolutely fine," Sheena insists. "Your mum did what was best for her, you need to do what's best for you. Alright? No one is going to expect you to do _anything_, Chloe, least of all your mum. I know how much she loves you. I've seen it. All she wants is for you to be happy, sweetheart. You'll see. She'll be here soon, Chloe, I promise. And then you'll see. We're all here to support _you_," she tells her gently now, sincere. "You're our priority, Chloe. Okay? No one's going to make you do anything you don't want to do, and we're all going to support you, whatever decision you make. We care about _you_, we're here to support _you_. And your mum will tell you that too, as soon as she's here."

"We just want you to be happy, Chlo," Dom agrees, desperately trying to reassure her, suddenly horribly conscious that his own complicated relationship with her, his being part of this family and then not and now somehow part of it again, his adoption their mother kept from her, might well be fuelling at least part of her anxieties. "That's all we want. You make whatever decision is right for you, and we'll support it."

"You promise?" his little sister whispers, and the look in her eyes is so haunted, so distraught, that Dom thinks his head might just break.

And so he just hugs her.

He just hugs her, holds her upright when she can't do it for herself through exhaustion and shock and panic and disassociation and god only knows what else, because what more can he do?

He hugs her and promises her that Ange will be here soon and it's all going to be okay, while Nicky crouches level with Chloe's knees, winces, clearly fighting as hard as she possibly can to hide her own terror, gloss over the fact that she's out of her depth with deliveries at the best of times.

Add in the fact that it's a breech baby there's no external evidence of, no medical neonatal notes for, nothing, and Chloe's distress and her shock and her absolute insistence over and over as she sobs between contractions that she doesn't want to do this, doesn't want this baby, doesn't want to deliver this baby, doesn't want to see it, can't bring herself to have anything to do with it, not now, not ever, and Dom thinks his little sister's best friend is doing a rather incredible job of holding it together, all things considered.

They hold it together as best they can.

They fight to hold it together, those ten minutes, because it's all they can do.

Because Chloe needs them.

Because they seem to have reached a shared, silent agreement that however terrifying this is for them, it's far, far worse for Chloe.

They have to hold it together for her, somehow.

There simply isn't another choice.

He hugs his little sister as tightly as he dares and tries everything he can possibly think of to distract her as Nicky gently prises her legs apart to examine her again, as Cam rushes around the flat collecting together hot water and towels and everything even vaguely resembling a first aid kit he can locate, still on the phone to the ambulance centre, tries placing it on speaker for ease for all of five seconds before it becomes woefully apparent that talk of further delays is the last thing Chloe needs to hear, and he's turned speaker mode off as fast as he turned it on.

At the six-and-a-half-minute mark (he's counting, of course, he's timing her contractions and their brutal countdown towards the certain doom that will undoubtedly befall them should she reach the critical stage before the paramedics and the ED doctor arrive), Nicky promises her, forced confidence, forced assurances, lying through gritted teeth because what other option is there, that it's going to be okay.

That she's not going to make her push until Ange is here, that she's not going to make her do anything she can't cope with.

That she's going to be fine, that nothing is going to go wrong, that they're going to get this part over with, all of them, with her together, and get her into hospital and make sure she's okay and everything will go back to normal, that no one is going to make her commit to anything that she doesn't want to do, force anything on her, nothing.

That she's going to be okay.

Nicky makes promise after promise she can't possibly know she'll be able to keep in the name of keeping Chloe calm enough to monitor her labour, those next few minutes, and Sheena stands calm through it all, unshakable, holds Chloe's other hand and whispers to Nicky that she's doing the most amazing job and she can tell she's going to be an incredible consultant one day, squeezes Dom's shoulder gently with her free hand as Chloe whimpers, somehow manages to be the voice of reason and source of reassurance they all need in those next few minutes.

Dom doesn't understand how she can be so incredibly calm.

"They're aiming to get an ambulance here within the next hour," Cam announces worriedly, wanders back into the living area, tosses his phone from hand to hand, restless, in need of anything by way of a distraction.

"We don't have an hour!" Nicky snaps, though her voice trembles, perfectly clear that it's not him she's angry at. "She's fully dilated, for god's sake! She's going to want to start pushing any minute now! I'll be amazed if she doesn't need a forceps delivery, she's…"

"No!" Chloe sobs, shakes her head, breath begins to come in short, sharp gasps and they need to calm her down, Dom realises with a sinking feeling in his heart, they need to calm her down before she's in full-blown panic attack territory and they're trying to coax her through that and labour all at once. "No, please, I can't! I can't…"

"Yes, you can, Chloe," Sheena tells her firmly. She kneels down beside them on the floor now, takes hold of both of Chloe's hands, squeezes, calm, in control. "You can, sweetheart. You're strong enough to get through this, you know that?"

Chloe shakes her head tearfully, lets out a strangled sob.

"Well, I do. I know you can do this," Sheena tells her now. "I know you can. You've already survived so much, Chloe, I know how strong you are. You just need to hold on for a little bit longer. Alright? You just need to be brave a little bit longer, and then this will all be over, and no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to. I promise. I'll make sure of it. We're going to deal with this however you want. But you need to try and stay nice and calm, alright? I know, I know it's not that easy," she sighs. "I know. But you're going to be fine. This is going to be much easier if you can keep nice and calm, Chloe. Okay? Nice and calm. Just breathe deeply, sweetheart, can you do that? There you go. You're fine," she soothes. "You're fine, Chloe. Everything's going to be… oh, okay, is that another one?"

Chloe just moans, sways a little, even held tightly in Dom's arms, shakes her head frantically and closes her eyes as though she'd rather be anywhere but here, this living nightmare she's found herself trapped within absolutely too much for her to bear.

"Just breathe through it," Sheena instructs her gently. "Come on, Chloe, breathe with me. That's it. Just breathe, just keep breathing. You're doing so, so well. Chloe? You are, sweetheart. You're doing so well, we haven't told you that enough, have we?"

"You're almost there, Chloe," Nicky tries to encourage her. "You're so, so close. This is all going to be over soon, I promise. Almost there."

Visibly, his little sister relaxes now, collapses back against his chest.

"I can't do it," she whispers, voice faint, exhausted, terror so horribly visible in her eyes that Dom can hardly stand it. "I can't do it, I can't, I don't want to…"

"I know, Chloe. Look at me? Come on, Chloe, look at me, sweetheart?" Sheena pleads with her, cups Chloe's hands in hers. "I know. I can't even imagine how awful this must be for you, and I'm so, so sorry you're having to go through it. And I wish you didn't have to. I really, really wish you didn't, but we don't have another choice now. You're just going to have to keep being brave for us for a bit longer, alright? Can you do that for us?"

"You're so close, Chloe," Nicky soothes. "I can see the feet, you're…"

"Don't!" Chloe protests loudly. "Don't, I don't want to think about it! I can't, I _can't_…"

"Okay. Okay." Nicky's expression clouds with the stress of trying to work out a way to handle what's coming next without making reference to the baby element. "Okay. I'm sorry, Chloe, I'm sorry. I know we keep upsetting you. But it's almost over, okay? You're so, so close…"

"I can't do it…"

"Yes, you can. I'm not… I can't lie to you, it's going to hurt," Nicky confesses, glances awkwardly between Dom and Cam now, worried. "But you can do this. You've already _done_most of it, you must have been in pain for hours before we noticed. I have no idea how you did that. You just need to hold on for a little bit longer…"

"Do I have to push before the paramedics get here?" His little sister's eyes are wide with terror, plead with Nicky to give her the answer she wants to hear.

Nicky bites her lip. "We'll get your mum's opinion once she's here, okay?"

"Nicky…"

"I'm really not an expert at this…"

"But in your opinion?"

Nicky winces in apology. "Unless it gets here in the next few minutes, then yes. Yes, I think you're going to have to push before the paramedics get here. Or… or at least start to. I don't think this part's going to be quick," she warns. "I don't think this part would have been easy even if it wasn't a breech delivery, from what I can see, it's difficult to tell without any medical history. I don't know if… I wonder if we might need to get you to squat, just to try and make some more room for…"

"I don't think she can," Dom interrupts- and it's ridiculous, really, because he knows Nicky only has Chloe's best interests at heart too, but all of a sudden, he overcome with an overwhelming urge to be his baby sister's advocate. "I really don't think she can, she's exhausted, she's barely supporting herself like this, there's no way she's going to be able to squat…"

"Okay. Okay, I just… I don't know if she's physically going to be able to push in this position, the way things look right now," Nicky worries. "We can't lie her down, that's going to be even worse… I'm trying to think, I really haven't had a lot of experience with obstetrics…"

"Has Ange, though? Chloe?" Sheena tries gently. "Chloe, sweetheart, do you know if your mum has much experience with all this? Chloe? Chloe, come on, we need you to stay with us. Has your mum had a lot of obstetrics experience? Is she going to be able to help Nicky when she…"

"I can't feel it," Chloe whispers. "I haven't felt anything, the whole time, I haven't just been… I swear I haven't felt anything. That's bad, isn't it? It's probably…"

"We don't know anything yet, Chlo," Cam tries. "It's nearly over, yeah? That's no point worrying about that just yet, let's wait until…"

"But if I can't feel it, that probably means it's… I don't want it to be dead!" Chloe sobs. "I don't want anything to do with it, but I don't want it to be dead..."

"We know, darling," Sheena murmurs. "We know that, it's alright. Just keep breathing for me. Calm, Chloe. Calm. Does your mum have experience with this, will she be able to…"

"She… she had me…" Chloe stops, screams, agonised, hysterical, clenches down on Dom's hand in desperation until at last, this latest contraction subsides. "She had me… by herself… she had no one with her… she had to do rescue breathing on me until…"

"But she had no medical intervention with you? Am I understanding you right? She got you breathing all by herself?"

Chloe nods weakly.

"Then your mum is just the person we need, isn't she? She'll be here soon, Chloe. Really, really soon, it won't seem so bad once she's here. You just need to hold on for us a little bit longer. I know you can," Sheena encourages. "I know how strong you are, I know you can do this. You're doing amazingly well."

"Do I have to see it?" Chloe panics. "At… at the hospital, will they make me…"

"No one's going to make you if you don't want to. I promise, Chloe. I promise. You let me worry about that," Sheena insists. "It's going to be fine. We're going to deal with this your way, you're not going to be made to do anything you don't want to. I promise. I'd like to think I'm pretty good at this job," she teases gently. "This is all part of my job. Alright? Let me take care of all that stuff, you just focus on what you need to do right now. That's all you need to be worrying about…"

"Sheena?" Nicky asks anxiously. "Sheena, can you come and lift her legs for me? Sorry, Chlo, is that okay?" she worries. "I don't think we can put this off much longer, I need you to push with your next contraction, okay?"

"No!" Chloe protests. "No, no, no, no, no, I don't want to…"

"I know," Nicky sighs. "I know, Chloe. But if we put it off for too long, it's going to be even worse. I can handle this, okay, but it's going to be much harder to do it without any equipment if we leave it too long and you haemorrhage. I really need you to push on your next contraction, okay? Please? Come on, Chloe, you can do this, I know you…"

The flat buzzer sounds shrilly, over and over, frantic.

"That'll be Ange," Sheena concludes. "Cam, can you go and let her in?"

Cam nods, springs up, apparently all-too-happy to have something to do that isn't monitoring Chloe's labour.

"It's fine, Chlo," Nicky promises. "It's going to be fine. I just need you to rest now, okay? Rest now, and then with the next contraction I need you to…"

"I don't know how, though!" Chloe cries out desperately. "I don't know _how,_I don't know…"

"Yes, you do, Chlo. You'll just know what to do instinctively, okay?" Nicky tries to tell her, but it's painfully clear to Dom from the look on her face that she's not quite convinced. "I need you to do what your body's telling you to do, you mustn't fight it. I need you to try and push. We'll try elevating your legs, if that doesn't work we're going to have to…"

The flat door bursts open, so violently that it slams against the wall.

"Chloe?" Ange calls frantically, bursts into the hallway. "Chloe! Where is she, what's… what's happened, Cam won't tell me what's…"

"Hi again, Ange," says Sheena calmly, lifts Chloe's legs onto her own shoulders. "Listen, there's no easy way of putting this. But how's your neonatal CPR nowadays? Chloe's just been telling me what a fantastic job you did of it when you delivered her, _before_you started your medical training. We're hoping you might be up for a repeat performance."

"What…" Ange suddenly pales, shaking, hands clasped over her mouth as though she's about to be sick. "What… I don't… Chloe…"

"Undetected pregnancy," says Sheena, so matter-of-fact and unfazed by it all that Dom can't help but wonder just how regular an occurrence this is with her SARC patients, and if so, why the hell no one made his little sister take a pregnancy test months ago. "Or whatever the medical term for it is these days. I haven't seen one of these for a few years now. Chloe's understandably rather freaked out, and I know this is a shock for you, too, but she really needs you to try and keep as calm as possible, alright? Can you do that? We were going to get her into the ED, but she's too far gone for that. She's fully dilated, the baby's engaged, but it's breech. There's an ambulance on its way but Nicky says we can't wait any longer, we're just going to have to get on with delivering this baby and they can slot in when they finally turn up."

Ange stands motionless, pales, hand over her mouth as though she's going to be sick.

"Ange?" Nicky pleads. "Ange, can you come and see what you think? I think she needs to start pushing with her next contraction but I've never seen anything like this before, it's hard to judge when I can't actually see any evidence of…"

"No," Ange whispers faintly, sways. "No, not my baby, not my baby…"

"Ange! Ange, listen to me!" Sheena urges. "Chloe needs you to help her deliver this baby, alright? We've got the delivery part between the four of us, but you're the only one who's been through this. You're the only one who knows how Chloe must be feeling right now, we can't reassure her like you can. Okay? Because you had Chloe like this, didn't you? You know it can be alright. I know you do. You're not just her mum now. You're the only one who can tell her it's going to be okay and she might just believe it. She needs you to do that for her now, Ange. And I hate to say it, but we're going to need you on standby at the medical end, too."

"Mum," says Chloe faintly. "Oh god, Mum, I think it might be dead."


End file.
